


Day? Lousy.

by elistaire



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Dark Humor, Gen, Humor, Musical References, Quickening, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 09:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7503336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elistaire/pseuds/elistaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lloyd Barrimore Johanson just wants lunch, but ends up Immortal instead. His day is pretty lousy. </p><p>Carl Robinson is the one that accidentally makes him Immortal; his day goes from bad to worse with each passing moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day? Lousy.

**Author's Note:**

> While the song is serious, the story is a bit of a lark. Apologies ahead of time for getting a bit ridiculous and irreverent. 
> 
> Lyrics stolen from Spearhead, "Oh My God" and incorporated into the fic. 
> 
> Warnings for Highlander level violence (a sword fight and a beheading). 
> 
> Originally posted in 2005.

Lloyd Barrimore Johanson, accountant for the renowned firm of Smith, Smithe, Smythe, and Tousiassantheimer, had just exited his building into the bright sunshine. It was lunchtime and his stomach was rumbling in protest from the new diet he had started yesterday, meaning that he’d skipped his usual morning banana-nut muffin and that he’d had his coffee black instead of with his customary cream and sugar.

Rationalizing that since he’d been so good that morning, that he could indulge a little for lunch, he headed for his favorite pizzeria--and because his energy was so low from skipping his muffin (he was hypoglycemic), he decided to take the short-cut through the back alley that skimmed off two minutes from the walk.

Without looking both ways, like his mamma had always taught him, he crossed the street into the alley, belatedly heard the screech of tires, and knew no more.

~~~ 

Carl Robinson glared down at the dead man at the head of his beautiful new Cadillac, his beautiful new _dented_ Cadillac with the ruined, cracked windshield. What a lousy day. The dead guy started moaning, and Carl leaned impatiently against the hood of his car. 

The previously dead man rolled over, and held onto his head while he looked around. First his gaze fell on the crumpled front grill of the sedan and his eyes widened. “Oh-my!” he said. Then his attention fell on Carl and his mouth worked without sound for a moment, then he uttered, “Oh my God!”

“Yeah, yeah. Nothin’s wrong.” Carl helped the guy to stand, and dusted him off. “You know you’ve just ruined my day, right? What’s your name?”

“Lloyd Barrimore Johanson,” came the automatic reply.

“I’m Carl.” Carl assessed his newfound trouble. The man was about average height, and looked solid underneath a few extra pounds, although he’d obviously slid into late middle age. “I’m gonna tell you some shit, then you’re gonna get your ass to Holy Ground and stay there.”

Lloyd’s attention was on the car. He was pointing, with a look of utter understanding on his face. “Oh my God!”

“Yeah, yeah. You ran in front of me and I hit you,” Carl said, and dusted off more street dirt from the man’s business suit. “You’d have thanked me to hit you ten years ago.” 

“Oh my!” Lloyd said, eyes even wider than before.

“Listen, Lloyd. I don’t have time for this. I was supposed to meet somebody and they aren’t gonna be too happy if I don’t show. They might try finding us here. You got that?”

Lloyd gave a weak nod.

“Now.” Carl fished a large knife from a hidden sheath and held it up. 

“Oh my God!” Lloyd started scrambling backwards. 

“Cut that out,” Carl demanded and sliced his hand open. He held it out to Lloyd. “See that? I’m Immortal. This ain’t no cartoon.” The wound healed up, zip zip. “So are you now, road-kill.” Carl grabbed a weakly protesting Lloyd and cut a small slash along his forearm. 

Lloyd watched in horror as his own flesh healed. “Oh my God,” he whispered.

“Yeah. Yeah. I just wish my car could heal up like that, too.” He looked to his once-beautiful car. Damn. He continued, “Now. There’s more. They got us livin’ genocide. You understand me? It’s kill or be killed. You’re Immortal and we fight to the death.” Carl pulled his sword from his coat, the blade glinting wickedly in the meager alley-sunlight.

Lloyd started shaking, and backing away, hands up in front of him. “Oh-- Oh--“

“Not _now_ , you idiot. Right now, I’m trying to teach you something.” It really was a lousy day. First his car was crumpled and his windshield smashed, and now he was burdened with a lame-ass new Immortal. “The only way anyone can kill you now is to chop your head off.” The sword vanished back under his coat. 

Lloyd fell over, stammering, “O-oh, m-my, G-god!”

He glanced at his watch. Damn. He was supposed to meet Kevin the Insane for a Challenge fifteen minutes ago. He had to get this lard-ball out of here before Kevin the Insane found him. “You’re safe on Holy Ground. Nobody will attack you there, and you can’t attack them either. You got that?”

Lloyd clung to the side of the alley, but managed to nod his head.

“Now, you will go and get your ass to Holy Ground and wait for me there, unless you want to be livin’ suicide.”

“Oh my God,” Lloyd said again, like a stuck record. But this time his attention was focused down the alley to where a backlit figure had appeared, and was stalking forward. Lloyd grabbed for his head just as Carl felt the buzz.

“Slam bam, I come unseen!” Kevin the Insane brandished his sword.

Carl pulled out his own sword. “I smell appealing, but I’m toxic,” he warned. He turned to Lloyd, who was cowering against the wall. He gave him a swift kick in the backside. “Run, you white collar criminal, MacDonald’s eatin’ fool!”

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” Lloyd stumbled forward.

He had intended to give the man a quick speller on Immortal Rules and send him on his way, but the moron was going to need a little bit more attention. He really didn’t have the time for this. “Our Lady of Perpetual Torment. I’ll meet you there,” Carl called over his shoulder and then turned back to the fight in front of him.

“Like money in the bank,” Kevin the Insane taunted, grinned, and attacked.

Carl responded to the blow. “Yeah, well you’re the one about to make a deposit.” Two more moves and Kevin’s head bounced along the pavement. As Kevin’s Quickening surged from his body and into Carl’s, the energy crackled around his once-new Cadillac and exploded the hood and trunk off. The upholstery caught on fire, and acrid black smoke filled the air. The intense heat deflated and melted the tires, oozing black rubber across the alley.

After the Quickening, and aching from the energy, Carl looked up. Lloyd was hovering at the edge of the alley, and he could hear the repeated “Oh my God, Oh my God,” like some drugged-out mantra. Kevin the Insane’s severed head had been engulfed by the melted tire goo, and his bloodied headless body was charred. 

And his car was completely destroyed.

Shit, it was really one of those lousy days.


End file.
